Chapter Seven Wilde
Present Day, Using the Term Loosely
The Kingdom of Misfortune, Also Using the Term Loosely
Plan C
I’d wasted too much time on legitimate employment and received nothing in return. Aside from witnessing a ridiculous engagement that should never have happened. Trey hadn’t even learned my alias’s name, let alone my real one. I would not make that mistake again.
I needed to join their quest. Last time, Trey asked for my help and used the opportunity to introduce me to the others as his boyfriend.
When he’d come up with our fake relationship on his own, it’d given me some hope that, despite the arguments and his generally rotten attitude, perhaps he liked me, just a little bit.
Everything had gone so well the first time, up until the end.
The second time, everything started terribly and ended worse.
The difference was obvious—I had a connection to Treasure before the quest began. Since I’d failed to recreate that relationship with him, I had to create it with someone else.
The easiest target—the one who wasn’t about to set off on an exhausting journey to another kingdom—was Prince Fitzroy. Though I hadn’t spent much time with him on the first quest, I knew one thing: the quickest way into this prince’s good graces was through books.
Although no one should remember me, Delilah had reacted to me. Since I still didn’t know why she recognized me, I had to be more cautious this time. During the first quest, everyone had learned my identity—and who my master was. I had to reduce the chances of Fitz recognizing me.
Glamours were the quickest forms of disguise. Unfortunately, there were a dozen ways for a glamour to fail: the image could flicker; someone could have uncanny sight; someone could touch you and realize your true features didn’t match your appearance.
And I very much wanted Treasure to touch me, no matter what I looked like.
I’d always preferred practical disguise methods. The right hair, makeup, clothes, and voice could bring a whole person into existence.
I paused in the street to check my reflection in a store’s window.
Long, wavy blond hair hung over my shoulders, with a tiny silver barrette tucking it behind my left ear.
The over-sized circle glasses made my eyes smaller and softened my face.
I touched the corner of one lip, cleaning off a smear of pink lipstick.
I’d chosen a high-necked blouse with a ruffled front to hide my lack of cleavage, and a black circle skirt to hide my narrower hips.
I’d been tempted to add heels but didn’t want to hinder my movement if I needed to run unexpectedly.
What would Treasure think if he saw me like this? I didn’t know Trey’s preferences, if he liked women at all. He certainly hadn’t pulled away from Angelica when she’d laid her claim to him. The thought creased my brow and tightened my jaw, giving my new face an unwanted harshness.
Think softer thoughts, I scolded. Books. Silk sheets. Tangling my fingers through Treasure’s curls.
Holding on to the idea of softness, I continued to my destination: The Luckless Library, the largest public library in Misfortune.
The double doors of the front entrance were thrown open, inviting everyone to come inside, not caring if they were prince or pauper, student or curious child.
I’d spent hundreds of days in libraries just like this, hoarding books on magic, tucking myself into corners where no one would find me until closing time.
As I stepped inside the Luckless Library, I realized none of the ones I’d visited were this grand.
A mosaic of the sun crawled across the ceiling, inching forward like a ticking clock, enchanted to tell the time of day.
Since the Kingdom Defense Spell had exiled most magic users, the enchantment either pre-dated the spell, or it’d been cast by a good wizard.
That knowledge dampened my enjoyment.
A grand staircase led to the second floor, which was an open balcony. Because of course everyone in the library should admire the craftsmanship of the mural. I would have to see it every minute I spent here, wouldn’t I?
Dozens of bookcases lined the walls and formed neat rows to the left and right of me. How did the librarians keep track of everything? What if a careless patron mis-shelved a book? It could be lost for decades, one among millions.
Though it looked like there was a small army of librarians to prevent such a mistake.
I counted three among the books, selecting things from the shelves and chatting with patrons over the contents.
Another six manned the huge front desk. They were clearly needed, since a long line of patrons had formed, each holding a stack of books.
I blinked in surprise at the crowd. Where did all these people come from?
One patron carried so many books that he had to use both hands and his chin to support everything. Even then, his stack tilted as he stepped forward. His arms tightened and his chin shifted, knocking his round glasses askew.
Fitz really needed to get his glasses resized.
It took me a second to remember that he was the reason I’d come here. I stepped forward to help him, happy to have an excuse for a ‘chance’ meeting.
The book stack wobbled precariously to the left and Fitz followed it, trying to steady the pile. Then it wobbled to the right, and he crossed his legs in his hurry to correct his posture, until he thoroughly twisted himself up.
The pile tipped forward and cascaded toward the floor.
I threw out a hand to catch them.
Time stopped.
It was a hiccup, an impulse. The books weren’t that important—they would survive the fall—but Fitz’s wide-eyed panic as they crashed toward the floor made me react without thinking.
I snatched two books out of the air before I realized it would benefit me more if they did fall.
Time started again.
Books pelted me across the shoulders and head hard enough that I dropped the ones I’d caught.
“Oh my gods,” Fitz gasped, staring at me in horror. “I am so sorry.”
My own glasses were askew now, hanging off only one ear. He reached forward to fix them for me. One of the books had damaged them so that they now sat in a slight angle. He grimaced and said, “I’ll pay to fix them.”
“It’s alright,” I demurred. They were cheap fakes anyway. I started to bend down to pick up a book from the floor, then remembered I was wearing a skirt, and crouched instead.
When he saw me crouch to help clean up his mess, he made a strangled noise in his throat and dropped to the floor as well. “No, no, I can clean it up,” he assured me, scooping the books into a disorganized pile.
I’d only managed to pick up one book, but it was enough to start a conversation. “The Modern Knight’s Guide to Quests,” I read aloud. “Are you going on a quest soon?”
“What?” he stared at me blankly for a moment, then finally looked at the book I held. “Oh! Yes. Maybe. I think. I hope to, at least.” He tried to gather all the books up again, already forgetting his previous failure.
“Let me,” I said, taking a stack.
This time, he accepted my help, and we split the books between us. He insisted on carrying two-thirds of them and I didn’t argue with him. A single book was enough to keep us in conversation for a little while longer.
“What kind of quest are you going on?” I asked. Some of my hair had fallen loose from my barrette so I tucked it back behind my ear to keep it out of the way.
“I don’t know yet,” he replied, a soft flush coloring his cheeks under his faint stubble. “Something dangerous, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Probably deadly, even.”
My eyes strained from the desire to roll them.
I widened them instead and nodded along with his inane comments.
He’d seemed more intelligent last time—too smart for his own good.
He was the one who had discovered how to break the curse on the Grimnight Forest. What he’d failed to learn was that curses tended to fight back.
His incomplete knowledge had partially led to Trey’s almost death.
It would have been so easy to blame him. I sat with the thought for a moment, waiting for the anger to come. It never did. I knew it wasn’t really Fitz’s fault. He hadn’t intentionally omitted the information, and he’d almost died to the curse’s protections as well.
“Are you interested in quests?” Fitz asked.
The person behind him in line stepped around us, taking his place. He didn’t seem to notice.
“More than interested,” I told him with a smile. “I’ve read every adventure account I can find. They’re fascinating, don’t you think? The magic, the monsters, the mystical places.” I let my gaze go distant, a na?ve young woman picturing a romantic adventure.
Then I heaved a despondent sigh. Perhaps it was a little over-the-top, but deception was theater, and sometimes actions needed to be exaggerated for the audience to understand. “What I wouldn’t give to go on my own adventure …”
Fitz opened his mouth—to tell me about the meeting, perhaps?—but all that came out was a grunt as someone jostled him.
“You’re holding up the line,” they said, unrepentant.
A librarian waved us over. “Next!”
I set the books on the counter while Fitz spoke to her about his account. I had no real reason to linger. It was better to bow out now than to garner suspicion. “It was nice to meet you,” I said, then turned and walked away.
I’d hoped for an invitation to the meeting, but that was like planting a seed and expecting it to bear fruit before the dirt had settled.
I’d have to arrange another chance encounter, though I wasn’t sure where.
With the number of books he’d checked out, he probably wouldn’t return to the library any time soon. A supply shop, perhaps?
“Wait!”
Pausing, I turned to see Fitz scrambling to stack the books in his arms once again. He looked from the pile to me, his expression strained, and asked, “Would you help me carry these home? We could talk more about quests on the way.”
I smiled, shaping it into something sweet rather than triumphant, and returned to his side, accepting a small stack. “I’d be delighted. I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Willow.”
“Prince Fitzroy Unfortunate.” He flinched and rushed to say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull rank on you, I just always—” He stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Please, call me Fitz.”
“Fitz,” I agreed. “I think you and I are going to become very good friends.”